


That Dreaded Voice

by DonovanS



Series: Paranormal AUs [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death of the Family, Dysfunctional Family, Friendship/Love, Husbands, Implied Character Death, M/M, Monsters, Paranormal, Possession, Unhappy Ending, Violence, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonovanS/pseuds/DonovanS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been five weeks since Sebastian had left.</p><p>Four and a half since he stopped contacting Jim daily.</p><p>His texts died off, his voicemail was full and his location was a mystery not only to Jim Moriarty, but to the authorities that were supposed to be looking for him.</p><p>It was supposed to be a temporary leave, a little holiday with the family for a week or so. His youngest brother, Jasper, had recently purchased a wealth of property in Canada and had invited his brothers on a hunting trip to celebrate. </p><p>Jim had fought his husband tooth and nail about it but, in the end, Jasper was his 'baby brother' and the first chance to meet up with Rawdon and Severin in nearly 5 years outweighed even Jim's most ridiculous demands.</p><p>And now here he was, in Jasper's cabin, in the middle of winter and worried to death over the very man he'd told not to go.</p><p>Big fucking surprise.</p><p>If Sebastian was still alive he'd be getting an earful of 'I told you so' the moment they were alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Dreaded Voice

_"The fear of death is more to be dreaded than death itself."_  
-Publilius Syrus (~100 BC), Maxims

____

It had been five weeks since Sebastian had left.

Four and a half since he stopped contacting Jim daily.

His texts died off, his voicemail was full and his location was a mystery not only to Jim Moriarty, but to the authorities that were supposed to be looking for him.

It was supposed to be a temporary leave, a little holiday with the family for a week or so. His youngest brother, Jasper, had recently purchased a wealth of property in Canada and had invited his brothers on a hunting trip to celebrate. 

Jim had fought his husband tooth and nail about it but, in the end, Jasper was his 'baby brother' and the first chance to meet up with Rawdon and Severin in nearly 5 years outweighed even Jim's most ridiculous demands.

And now here he was, in Jasper's cabin, in the middle of winter and worried to death over the very man he'd told not to go.

Big fucking surprise.

If Sebastian was still alive he'd be getting an earful of 'I told you so' the moment they were alone together.

The search party ambled around him as they debated with one another. 

Moriarty's men refused to stop, knowing their boss' demands, and the local authorities argued they'd be doing a body search at best, given the amount of time passed.

Jim just sat in an armchair by the fire, hands folded into a Sherlock-esce triangle in front of his face and his mind a million miles away. 

He was the first one to notice the noise at the door. A soft 'thump thump.'

"We can't just leave the man to die out there-""Your friend is already dead, have you seen the weather mate? That's a damned blizzar-"

"SHUT UP."  
Moriarty's sudden and violent demand silenced the whole room. There was an uneasy shifting of feet as he stood with his arm stretched to his side and his hand up, motioning everyone to stay quiet.

Thump thump.

"Get the door."

"Sir?" One of the men piped up and Jim's eyes met his, all fire and energy.

"Open the door, Danvers." 

Danvers, a sandy haired 20-something assassin Moran had hired specifically for his near unending loyalty to the highest bidder, nodded silently before pushing through the others and opening the door with a soft creak.

Behind it was a spiteful wind that howled and threw snow with such force it actually hid the entire forest from view. There was no way anyone could've been knocking...right?

A blood curling scream and Danvers just about pissed himself, an arm had shot out of the blinding storm, grabbing his throat and pushing him back, his body weight pulling a tall, stiffened figure in with him.

"Sebastian!" Moriarty shoved his way through his men and the locals alike, rushing to his partner's side just as the younger man rolled them over and leaped to his feet in terror.

It was, indeed, Sebastian Moran, though he looked more than a little worse for wear as he curled into a fetal position on the floor. 

Jim dropped to his knees, pulling Moran's head into his lap and yelling at his men to get a doctor, immediately. They obeyed and headed into the storm without hesitation, blizzard be damned, and those that remained behind immediately began helping Jim carry his partner to the fire, stripping him of his tattered clothing and readying dry blankets and hot water bottles from one of the bathroom cabinets.

Sebastian mumbled incoherently as Jim held his hand to his mouth, pressing nervous kisses to the Colonel's knuckles.

Without the heavy coat and iced over trousers he could get a proper look at just how bad of shape his sniper was in.

Moran's skin was stretched and cracked in some places, mostly grey with cold save for his fingers and toes which had turned an unnatural shade of black. Frostbite, Jim recognized. 

His normally tall and muscular figure was reduced to a thin, gaunt shadow of itself, his own lean musculature reduced to a look more befitting a starving stray than a world class assassin. His lips were cracked and blue, they bleed as his body warmed and began to shiver. Moriarty ran his fingers over his ribs before applying more blankets to his partner's quivering form. 

Within the next 24 hours a doctor had been fetched, the storm outside quieted and it was soon just Jim and Sebastian in the house.

Danvers, Masti and Green were segregated to the guest house nearby, in case of emergency, but Sebastian was now largely under his husband's care.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Jim said the words with such reverence you'd have barely noticed the insult. "I thought I'd lost you."

Sebastian just let out a small, choked laughed. "I'm harder to ggget rid of...t-than you'd thiINk."

Jim winced at the words, the choking, burning sound of air was unsettling, even to Professor Moriarty. 

Still, he remained perfect placid as he stroked Sebastian's hair, pushing it off his forehead and holding up a fork full of potatoes to the blond's lip. The second it touched them Sebastian wretched, sitting up and knocking the utensil and Jim's hand as far from him as possible.

"The hell, Seb?!" Moriarty snapped, glaring and trying his best not to lose his temper at the unnecessary action. "You could've just said no, fuck."  
He'd just gotten these damned trousers cleaned before he left London, wonderful.

_Easy Jim, control, calm, don't retaliate._

Sebastian just turned on his side to face Jim completely, biting his bottom lip and groaning in agony.

He looked like Hell and that seemed to keep the Professor from properly lashing out at him.

"...You have to eat, love." Moriarty sighed and held a hand out, running his index finger down Moran's cheek. The man responded to the gesture by running his tongue over Jim's palm. 

"...Yeah...yeah I do." He looked at Jim, a small smile playing on his tattered lips and something about his eyes, that expression on his face was just...wrong. Like they were looking through him. More than undressing him, they were reaching into his brain and digging a set off dirty fingers into it, shambling about and shifting things around for a better view. 

It made Jim's hair stand on end and his head feel light. Everything seemed so completely out of place on the sniper's face and the more he looked, the more he noticed the same could be said for the rest of his body. His teeth seemed longer, his gums receded and his lips curled back, his limbs oddly stretched and his ribs too far apart to be normal, his skin still pale and greyish.

 _No, you're being ridiculous Jim. He's just sick. Battered and beaten and sicker than he's ever been. You're just being 'inhuman' again. Your idiot lizard brain that doesn't 'get' people._ Seeing his partner like this, his sniper, his most loyal friend and companion, reduced and emaciated. Even a mind as sharp as Jim's played tricks now and then when the stress of work and his reluctantly acquired 'family' grew too great. He'd never been good at 'understanding' people before anyway, that's why he'd gotten Sebastian in the first place. 

Yes.

That was it. 

Maybe he needed to clear his head for a minute, rest by the fire in the other room before finding something his Tiger would be more keen on eating. Why didn't Jasper have any Indian food? He'd never known a Moran to not woof it down like Ambrosia. Severin even took special delight in how disgusted Jim tended to get watching them eat it together, made quite the show of eating Sandesh at their wedding.

Moran's starved growl shook him from his thoughts and he squeezed Sebastian's hand a little tighter. 

"I will be _right_ back, Basher, alright?"

He'd sort through the newly filled cabinets and dig through the fridge, find something still unspoiled besides _potatoes_.


End file.
